No More Dr Evil
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: An alternate little scene set during 'No More Mr Nice Guy'. House/Cameron.


**I've had this fic floating about in my head for months and have only just got around to writing it since my baby girl decided to make an early arrival and take up all my free time. I'm telling you this as I most definitely still have baby brain and, as such, this story could well be riddled with all kinds of mistakes and errors. I apologise in advance for them. Hopefully, you might enjoy it anyway. **

**This is set during the S4 episode 'No more Mr Nice Guy' and, since it's a House/Cameron fic it strays wildly from canon.**

* * *

"You don't have syphilis," a soft voice announces as House limps his way across the office and heads for his desk. He hides his surprise at not being alone and looks up to find Cameron lounging comfortably in his Eames chair.

"No?" he asks, feigning shock.

"No", she tells him, firmly.

"What makes you so sure?" He asks as he wanders around to the front of his desk, leaning insolently against it.

"I know you."

"Is that so?" He smirks at her and tilts his head to one side, appraising her. There's a confidence to her that he likes, her new found feistiness in his presence is a definite turn on.

"Yes," she says simply as she raises herself out of the chair and stands to face him. "You have to trust someone to catch an STD from them and _you, _Dr House, don't trust anybody."

He watches her intently, enjoying the way her lithe body moves as she closes the space between them. "Plus, those working girls are sticklers. Remember?"

He smiles inwardly and wonders, not for the first time, why he ever let her resign. She's getting good at this game; becoming a worthy adversary. He's enjoying himself.

"The wombat still waiting for an answer?" he asks, enjoying the way her eyes momentarily widen.

Cameron realises she shouldn't be surprised that he knows about Chase's jealous questioning; there is very little the man in front of her doesn't overhear, find out about or weasel out of new underlings who are eager to impress. She looks at him and rolls her eyes at the barely supressed mirth on his face; closing her eyes against the thought of how sexy it makes him look. Really, the idea that he is enjoying her boyfriend's misery should make her mad and the fact that it doesn't probably says more about her feelings for Chase than she'd like to admit.

"Doesn't matter what I say," she tells him, honestly, wondering briefly why she's answering him when she knows that there is a reasonable chance that he will mock and laugh at her and yet, there's something crackling in the air between them that compels her to keep talking. "He's already decided he knows the answer."

"You should dump him," he says, voice gruff, eyes never leaving hers.

She laughs slightly, relieved. "I know."

"You won't though, will you?" he taunts, "Scared to hurt his feelings?"

"What do you care if I dump him or not?" she challenges, her heart quickening at the look in his eyes.

He shrugs, feigning a casualness he doesn't feel. He needs to end this conversation and fast. "Chase is a moron. You're not. Do the math.

"He's not a-"

"Of course he is!" he explodes, irritated beyond belief at her defence of his former underling, "he thinks you were stupid enough to have unprotected sex with me. If that doesn't qualify him as a moron then I think the fact that he fucked you whilst you were high on crystal meth sure does."

"So he's not perfect. No one is," she shot back, defensively, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him heatedly.

"He's a crappy boyfriend and you know it," House needles, unable to stop himself, "Yet you're still with him, why?"

"What do you care?" she grinds out, angrily, amazed at this man's capacity to irritate her so easily.

He shrugs nonchalantly, "It's interesting."

"No it isn't," she counters, 'it's pretty dull actually. Far too mundane for you to bother about unless...'

"What?" he growls.

She smiles sweetly at him, eyes sparkling with mirth and a hint of excitement, "Unless you want me to be single."

"Why would I want that?" he asks, pulling a face at her.

"You tell me," she says, seriously.

"Nothing to tell."

"Fine. I'll be going then," she says with a slight sigh as she wonders how long she will continue to play this game with him, "See you around, House." She turns and strides across his office, head up, shoulders squared and eyes dead ahead. There's no way in hell she'll give him the satisfaction of looking back at him. No matter how much she wants to.

Her Palm rests against the cool glass of the door as the low buzz of his voice reaches her ears. "Dump him."

She takes a deep breath before whipping back round to face him. "Why?" she demands, hands settling on her hips as her eyes lock with his in a heated stare.

"He's an idiot."

She shakes her head at him, "Not good enough."

He can read in her eyes that this is his last chance. If he doesn't say something now he will lose any chance he ever had with her. "He doesn't deserve you," he blurts out, voice gruff, eyes locked on hers.

Quirking her head to one side she graces him with a small, warm smile. "Know someone who does?"

"Nope," he announces, taking a sudden interest in his sneakers, "but I know someone who wishes he did."

"Does this guy happen to be a diagnostician called Greg House by any chance?" she asks softly as she crosses over to him.

"Well, duh!" he snarks, rolling his eyes at her for effect which makes her laugh.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," she says, a pleased smile crossing her face.

"So.." he drawls, giving her a wink, "you wanna come see my etchings some time?"

"Definitely," she tells him with a flirtatious smile and a squeeze of his firm bicep before she takes a step back from him and turns to leave once again.

"Where're you going?" he demands, confusion etched across his face.

She turns briefly and gives him a dazzling smile. "To dump the wombat."

* * *

**Thank you for reading. **


End file.
